


Solstice

by fictive_frolic



Category: Avengers, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Faeries Made Them Do It, Fluff, Loki - Freeform, Loki x Reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-11-27 09:44:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictive_frolic/pseuds/fictive_frolic
Summary: Loki has a broken heart and Thor thinks he has the perfect solution.





	1. Chapter 1

“Loki, darling,” Frigga murmurs, “Are you listening to me?” The God of Mischief turns away from the window and the maiden that spurrned him and gives his mother a weak smile, “Of course, Mother.” She smiles, “What did I say?” He barks a laugh and sighs, “There’s no use lying to you, is there?” 

She pats his hand sympathetically and kisses his cheek, “My son,” she says bracingly, “I don’t exaggerate when I say you could easily do better.” Loki sighs, “I don’t want better,” he says, “I want Lissa” She smiles a little sadly. Her son’s heart was fragile. Jealously guarded. And now it was broken. Broken by someone unworthy of the honor of holding it. 

He moved back to the tea table and poured her a cup to get away from the window, “Tell me again, Mother,” he coaxes, “I’ll listen.” She moves to her chair and accepts the cup with a smile, “We have an envoy coming,” she repeats. “An envoy?” Loki asks, “Is Father avoiding war or starting one?” Frigga smiled ruefully, “Neither, you wicked Boy. He wishes to negotiate trade.”

“A trade of what?” Loki asked sipping his tea. “Enchantments,” Frigga said simply, “Your father has long coveted Fae magic and he has requested that they send their ambassador to broker the deal.” Loki frowned, “The Fae do not just send ambassadors.” Frigga hummed in agreement, “Indeed not. They’re sending a member of the royal family with a small retinue.” Loki quirked an eyebrow, “Is a trade all Father wishes to broker.” Frigga half shrugged elegantly, “That I do not know. Your father does not share all his plans with me. I only know that he wishes them to be welcomed in grandest fashion and has forbidden Thor from staging any mock battles.” Loki nodded, “Ah, then we’re dealing with Bright court fae.” His mother laughed softly, “Yes, I’m afraid his last dealings with Fae taught your father a valuable lesson. He wasn’t about to get burnt twice. The rebellion they stirred up in the 9 realms certainly put him to the test.”

Frigga leaves him shortly after that and leaves him thinking. He knows there is no way Odin is bartering for magic. That enchantments are all he wants. Odin is crafty. Crazy like a fox. One does not rule for millennia if they are not. He knows that Magic is not all that’s coming to Asgard and he braces himself for impact. He doesn’t know what is coming but he can feel the impending chaos. He can feel it like he can feel the shift of the wind as he leans on the balcony railing. He snorts to himself bitterly, the only good thing to come out of this is that it will certainly distract him from the searing pain he felt watching Lissa bat her eyes at Fandral. That stupid lothario. He didn’t even know her name. Or that there was a flower in his mother’s garden that matched her eyes perfectly. He didn’t deserve her, but she had made her choice. She had made her decision and Loki would abide by it. 

_______

The morning that the Ambassador arrived dawned bright and clear. Loki could feel the buzz of tension and chaos in the Palace. Servants bustled and the smell of a feast being prepared made his mouth water involuntarily. It was clear that his parents had decided that this envoy was worthy of a full Asgardian welcome. Thor fell into step beside him as he strode briskly past where Fandral was flirting with a pretty maid. One that was not Lissa. “Brother,” Loki said, “I take it you’ve all decided to ignore Father’s order and stage a mock battle to demonstrate your skills?” Thor laughed and clapped Loki on the back, squeezing the back of his neck affectionately, “You’re very clever brother. But Father and I have compromised on a tournament.” Loki smirked, “Children’s games?” he scoffed. Thor boomed a laugh, “Children’s games for a fool’s errand,” he scoffs in return, “I think Father has a mind to Marry me to one of these Fae creatures.” Loki rolled his eyes, “Or he means to embroil us in a conflict of some description. He may not mean to find you a bride. I think he knows your heart is set on Sif.” Thor snorted, “Sif certainly seems to think so.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Loki asked archly. Thor opens his mouth to reply but When Frigga gestures them forward to stand near their father to receive the Ambassador, there is no time. 

The fanfare is deafening and triumphant as you sweep through the doors with your retinue in two. You’re dressed from head to toe in resplendent violet fabric embroidered with arcane silver patterns. Your hair is blazing red. A rich auburn that offsets your emerald eyes. You look like fall incarnate. Ripe curves and plush lips beckoned welcomingly and Loki felt his mouth go dry. For a moment he wanted to heed that call and pin you against the nearest wall and kiss you. Senseless. Until you would let him take you in front of everyone. The image is so vivid and burns so brightly that Thor stutters for a moment before pretending to cough to cover the laugh. His powers, contrary to what he told Midgardians nowadays, were not limited to thunder. He had a certain control over fertility and with it arousal. Frigga shot both of her Sons a look just as you paused in front of them to be announced. “Princess Y/N. Keeper of Secrets, Mistress of the Western Forrest. Bright Born Granddaughter of Queen Titania. Lady of the Lyonesse.” Loki Can’t breathe as you sink into a courtsey, affording him an entirely too tantalizing view of your bosom. Thor kicks his ankle before you stand up straight again and Frigga sweeps forward to welcome you, kissing you on either cheek. “Welcome, Princess,” She says kindly.

She sees the wariness in your eyes and the composure you’re feigning to avoid causing offense. “Thank you, your majesty,” you say blushing sweetly, “I must say, this is all more than I expected. I am but my Grandmother’s humble servant and it is an honor to act on her behalf to bring glory to both our kingdoms.” Frigga beams and kisses your cheek again, “Well, before we get down to brass tacks,” she says, taking her place at Odin’s side again, “You must rest. The journey can be tiring, I know. And I will not have it said that Asgard does not take the best care of her guests.” You smile politely and fall into another grateful curtsey as a bevy of Asgardian servants sweep you to your rooms to rest and refresh yourself before being thrown into the evening’s festivities. 

“A lovely girl,” Frigga declares, charmed. “Indeed,” Odin says, “But I think, a bit young to be a proper envoy. I had hoped that Titania wouldn’t send her youngest.” The queen laughs softly, “Her youngest, but also her most clever. I think we’ll be pleased with her.”

“Indeed,” Thor says, “But I do think it would be appropriate to appoint her a… guide. Asgard can be a confusing and dangerous place.” Odin makes a soft thoughtful noise and turns to address his eldest son, “And who would you appoint?” Thor bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking, “Loki of course. Who else knows the ins and outs of Asgard’s dangers better than he… He caused most of them after all.”

“Capital idea!” Frigga exclaimed, “Loki, darling, you’ll do it won’t you?” Loki took a deep breath, mentally preparing his litany of rude things to call his brother when they were alone, “Of course, Mother,” he said smiling brightly, praying to the Norns that your personality would be enough to quell the lust he felt for your body


	2. Chapter 2

Loki would happily murder his brother for putting him in this position. He knew it was just a pretty face and some nice curves turning his head. His sex drive seeking mindless pleasure to avoid the pain he had been feeling in the wake of being spurned by his beloved. 

He knew you deserved better than to be a dalliance. Still. He was curious about you. And your retinue. Did any of you know more than you pretended to? Was this really Just a mission to broker a trade?

Alone in his rooms, with time for the plan to fix firmly in his mind, Loki smiled to himself. If anyone in Asgard was in a position to find out, it was he. And in the hustle and bustle of servants unpacking and seeing to their ladyship, who would notice one more.

He cast his illusion, careful to go as an Asgardian. You would know the names and faces of your household. They were probably handpicked by you to go. People you knew. People you could trust. As he made his way to the rooms. Pretty ones that afforded you a nice view of the Kingdom, ones reserved for honored guests. He slipped in quietly. You were nowhere in sight but he could hear soft voices in the bath chamber. It was likely that you were there. That let him breathe a little easier. Ladiesmaids always gossiped much more freely when their mistress was out of earshot and something told Loki he’d not be disappointed. There was an undercurrent of tension in the room. One maid, handling your things as roughly as she dared appeared unhappy to be in Asgard.

“Millie,” A tall, elegant woman in soft spring green robes said. Her voice was quiet and well-bred but the censure rang through the room grinding everything to a halt. Like a well-oiled machine with a cog out of place. “Treat those gowns carefully,” she corrected, “I do not think, even with all their finery, that Asgard is equipped to mend Spider Silk. And we may be away from home for a time.” The maid, a small plump woman with pinched features, looking at the moment like a child on the verge of a tantrum stomped her foot, “I don’t see why we all had to go. The Scandal…” She was cut off with a round of hisses and her cheeks colored, making her look ashamed. The tall elegant woman spoke again, “We’ll not speak of that here. Her Highness showed us loyalty. We owe her a debt. We all of us, owe it to her not to send her into this alone.” They all go back to work then. Organizing your possessions getting the rooms to your liking. 

Loki slipped out again. A scandal. The Scandal. It could mean anything but somewhere in the back of his mind, Loki knew it did not. You had done something. Something not quite worthy of Banishment but still enough that they wanted you sent away. Until the memory faded. An ambassadorship would do that. Asgardians were as long-lived as Fae. They could keep you here for centuries for some contrived reason or another. The Courts of Fae would move on without you in time, you’d be the cautionary tale mothers told their daughters. He felt a pang in his chest. That bothered him. Whatever you had done hadn’t been something that alienated your household. If anything it had bound them closer to you. Most of them anyway. Loki wasn’t unfamiliar with the inner workings of a Lady’s household. Maids could be capricious and it could be hard to engender unswerving loyalty. Most of them were in it for a favor. The chance at a good marriage. Even being in a “Lower” princess’ house was enough to seal a decent match. 

Back in his rooms, he had little time to ponder the question of The Scandal. He had to get himself dressed and prepared. It was a state dinner and he had to dress with care. It was a display of wealth. Of power. And as he swept into the hall, it was clear that Odin intended to impress. Whatever Titania had that he wanted was valuable indeed. You were already speaking with Odin when he arrived. A letter was produced from inside the sleeve of your gown and Odin accepted it with thanks before dismissing you to enjoy yourself. You courtsey prettily and back down the steps of the dais. 

He enjoys watching you move. There’s lazy, loping grace. An understated elegance that pleases him. You accept a glass of wine from a passing servant with a smile of thanks and Loki can’t breathe for a moment. Your face is sculpted to be memorialized in marble. You look like a goddess. One he could happily spend his nights worshipping. Norns, he thought, how am I to do this? He sighs and tries to collect himself. He feels like a youth, embarrassed by the tightness in his trousers. You aren’t even doing anything enticing. Sipping wine and chatting with Sif. She’s clearly appraising you of the who’s who and who they’re sleeping with. You look as if you’re trying hard not to appear bored. Court intrigues are clearly less than interesting. Compared to the Fae courts with their battles for thrones, Asgard was probably less than complex to you. Whatever Scandal you would have caused would be something mind-boggling here. Sif waved him over, smiling. Loki snatched a glass of wine off a tray and took a fortifying sip before he loped over. “Your highness, Lady Sif,” he bowed slightly and was rewarded with a smile from you that made his heart stutter for a moment. “How do you find Asgard, Princess?” he asked. “It is a beautiful place,” you say, “I’m fortunate that they sent me to such a lovely kingdom.” It is an answer. A diplomatic answer. And so not really an answer at all. Perhaps you were better at this than they had given you credit for.

“Indeed, I think the luck is all ours,” He said smiling a little, “It’s been many seasons since we’ve had an ambassador who warranted such a welcome.” You laugh softly and his prick throbbed uncomfortably. He wanted to get away from you. To make an excuse and run, saving himself the embarrassment of spilling his seed in his pants. But as the musicians began to play, he couldn’t resist. He offered you a hand, “Y/N,” he said, “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to teach you this dance.” You smile at him and take his hand, “I’d be delighted,” you answer. He leads you to the floor then has to focus very intently on being a good teacher. It helps. But for the silver bells of your laugh when you make a mistake. It drives him to distraction and even his perfectionist streak can’t come to the surface. He wants to kiss those plump lips. To nibble that bottom lip as he pulls you to straddle his hips. It takes effort. You make him light-headed. The smell of your skin is intoxicating to him and it takes effort not to bury his face in your neck. 

As the music ends and he escorts you from the floor, listening to your silvery laugh and accepting your thanks and your compliments he kissed your hand, “It was my pleasure, your highness,” he said, “you’re an accomplished dancer to have done so well.” You smile, “My dancing master would be shocked to hear it,” you tell him, “he was in constant despair over my two left feet.” Loki smiled, “Well, I’m impressed none the less. Even if my feet do ache.” You slap your hand over your mouth, all apologies and he laughs, “Princess,” he said, “I knew what to expect before we even made it to the floor. That dance is terribly difficult.” You give him a teasing look, “Are you saying you set me up?” you ask him. He grinned, “I might have,” he returned, “Perhaps I wanted to know what you would do under pressure.” You give him a smirk and curtsey prettily, “I think then, Prince Loki that I shall have to consider carefully trusting you in the future.” You excuse yourself with a teasing backward glance before answering Frigga’s gentle summons. 

Loki sighed and turned to Thor, “Brother I swear if this is your doing,” he started. Thor chuckled, “I swear to you brother, your current state is no doing of mine.” Loki frowned and Thor clapped him on the shoulder, “Perhaps you’re just more vulnerable to the attractive qualities Fae have. It should get better once you’ve adjusted to her.” Loki sighed, “I hope you are right,” he said, “I would hate to put her in an uncomfortable situation.” Thor laughed, “You’re uncomfortable enough for you both, I think.”

The god of Mischief gave his Brother a sour look and Thor’s booming laugh echoed off the walls of the chamber.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki sat across from you in the Library. Each of you had a book. Several of your ladies had books. Those who didn’t particularly like to read, had their sewing. It had been a perfectly nice afternoon, Showing you the wonders of the city, telling you all about the customs and the people who live there. Your hand on his arm after he had offered it to you politely. 

It had done nothing to quell his desire for you, spending all day in your company. In fact, he reflected as he skimmed the book rather than read it, unable to stop his eyes from drifting towards you, it had probably made it worse.

You had been polite. Courteous. A perfect guest to his father’s house. Even now as you lounged on a low sofa, a book aganist your knees, you were doing nothing flirtatious. Nothing to invite this sort of feeling. But he could still feel your fingers on his arm and he burnt. However slowly to touch you again. Even if he’d found their chatter tiresome often today, he had been grateful for the presence of your ladies. They’d discouraged any less than gentlemanly behaviors. Anything that Frigga would have scolded him soundly for. 

“Loki?” you ask, looking up from your book, a ponderous look on your face. “Yes?” he answered, not looking up from his. Feigning disinterest for a moment. “Perhaps, when this deal is done, you should come to Faerie. We have lovely libraries. I think you would enjoy them.” He did look up then, smiling a little, “What if I would prefer to admire the armories?” You smile a little, “Come now, Prince Loki. You barely stopped at the door of the Armories here. While the stories say that you are indeed a fierce fighter, I think your true love is not in steel, but ink.” Loki laughed softly and sighed, “It’s true, I think. I never enjoyed my fighting lessons nearly so much as the reading ones.” You smile a little and Loki’s heart skips. The late afternoon sun has set your hair to blazing and your eyes are shining. The deep emerald green reminding him of lush forrest and quiet springs. He wants to lean into you, to feel his lips against yours. Thankfully the table and the distance between you prevent it. 

“So,” Loki says, tearing his eyes away from your lips, “what of you, princess? You know I don’t enjoy fighting. Have you got any deep, dark secrets?” He knows you cannot lie. He also knows that one does not need to lie to deceive. “Dark Secrets?” you say, “No. Secrets, I have many.” Loki smiles slowly and steeples his fingers, “Oh, do tell?” 

His voice has slunk to a silken tone. Coaxing and sweet. Tempting. In his mind, he’s thinking of velvet skin and a plush mattress. The warmth of your molten sex under his hand as he pushes you into coming for him again and again. His name, a secret prayer falling from your lips again and again. 

“If I told you,” you answer, “they would no longer be secrets.” Your smile reminds him of a house cat pretending to be a tiger. Sweetly fierce. Precious. He knows that compared to him, you are young. A grown woman, certainly. But had you been mortal, you would still be alive. The only thing that stops him from lifting you up and whisking you away somewhere to torment you until you tell him everything between gasps for more is your maids, watching intently. Eyeing his every move. 

“That’s true,” he said, “And Gods only know where we would be if ladies did not keep a few secrets. Every court in the 9 realms would be drowning in scandals.” At the mention of Scandal, your face betrays nothing. At least no worry. There’s only a flicker of pain. “That is probably also true,” you tell him with a sigh. Loki doesn’t press further. He doesn’t like the flicker of pain in your eyes. It doesn’t belong there. He likes it when your eyes shine with mischief. Not with what could easily become tears.

When you set your book aside, putting your feet on the floor, Loki sets his book aside as well, “I think,” you tell him, “That this has been one of the lovliest afternoons of my life but. Duty calls. I’d imagine I have correspondence to keep.” You stand and curtsey prettily, “Thank you, for taking the time to show me Asgard, your highness. I’m sure you’re very busy.” Loki stood and bowed quietly, “It has been my pleasure, Princess,” he said, “The delight in your face was well worth the distraction from my other duties.” 

Your cheeks color, the softest rose blush staining your cheeks and you incline your head in another quiet thanks before leaving the library, your ladies in tow. Loki watches you go, smiling a little. 

What he’d told you hadn’t been a lie. The way your face had glowed, the way the silver bells of your laugh had rung in his ears. It had been delicious. It had drowned out the pain he had felt seeing Lissa practically hurling herself at Fandral. He’d felt nothing at Fandral’s gloating look. He was too busy explaining the way the bifrost worked. Too Busy watching the colors shine in your eyes. 

He knew it wasn’t love. Not exactly. But he respected your kindness and curiosity. He’d enjoyed your stories of home. You were a distraction. An envoy he could consider a friend.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m telling you!” Fandral exclaimed sprawling elegantly across a sofa, “Our sweet princess of Lust is simply not as fair as she’s painted.”

Loki didn’t look up from his book, but he could feel the muscle in his jaw tighten. Thor pointedly didn’t look towards Loki as he laughed, “What are you on about, Fandral?”

“Well,” he said stretching, “I’m not one to gossip but it seems the Princess left her own court under a bit of a scandal… Jilted her lover at the alter, she did.”

Thor sighed, “And where exactly did you hear that?” Fandral grinned, “One of her maids of course… Chatty little things if you press the right buttons.”

“There has to have been a reason, Fandral,” Thor said, “Did she happen to tell you that?”

Fandral shrugged, “We got a bit distracted after that,” he said waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Sif walloped him with a pillow, “Scandal or no, I still think Odin has a mind to marry you to her Thor,” she said, “If she is to be your wife, you should probably investigate.” Loki snorted, “I highly doubt Odin is going to marry Thor to a minor Princess that far from the throne.”

Thor gave Loki a mischevious glance, “He might deign to broker a marriage for you though,” he said.

Fandral and Volstag laughed, “The Princess would find Loki a rather tall challenge,” the former said, “she’s far too fair for the likes of him.”

____________

The knock on the door makes you pause your letter, “Enter,” you say, setting your quill aside and massaging your aching fingers.

Loki lets himself into your room and leans elegantly against the wall, “So,” he said smiling, “the lady does have secrets. Scandalous secrets.” He feels a little feral. Angry. Though he isn’t sure why. 

You exhale slowly, “I hoped against hope I suppose,” you tell him, “that this would stay in faerie. I should have known better.” You stand up slowly, “Would you like the story or would you like to keep being angry with me for what you heard.”

Loki stalked closer to you and sat across from you, “Impress me,” he said, “How could you have possibly created enough scandal to get thrown out of that decadent hell hole of a court.”

“I had a betrothed, once,” you start, “Balore. A young and upcoming officer in my Grandfather’s army. I loved him. We spoke the vows to pledge to each other. I kept them. He didn’t.”

You look away from him, standing up and looking towards the window. “I found him the night before our wedding attempting to defile one of my maids. A bright young thing. Sweet. Naive. Fresh out of the provinces. She was no match for his tricks.” 

Loki watches a tear fall down your cheek and he feels about an inch tall. He feels sick. Angry with himself that he let Fandral’s needling of all things get under his skin. “Princess,” he started, desperate to soothe you. “No,” you tell him. 

“That poor girl… none of this is her doing. I did jilt Balore at the alter. I did break my pledge to him,” you admit, “But none of that matters. When I took that girl into my service. Any girl, when they come into my service, a promise is made that no harm will befall them under my roof. And through my own carelessness, I broke it in spectacular fashion. I was so blinded by his flattery that I couldn’t see he didn’t love me. He loved what favor a marriage to me would cause my grandfather to bestow upon him.”

Loki crosses the floor and places his hands on your shoulders, tilting your chin up. unshed tears glisten in your emerald eyes and he wants to kiss them away. Leave you so dizzy and breathless that there can’t be any thought of pain in your head. 

“Princess,” he said softly, “you have my deepest apologies. I listened to gossip and let it color my opinion of you. It was poorly done of me. A churlish way to repay your kindness and friendship.” He cradled your face in his hands, acutely aware of the silk of your skin. “Your highness,” you murmur, looking down, cheeks flushing. 

“Loki,” he insists quietly. He’s lost track of the hours he’s spent, imagining the whisper of his name falling from your lips. The thrill he feels when you say his name is electric. Warmth curls in his belly and he never wants to stop listening to your voice. 

“Loki,” you whisper, “I- I- I should see to my duties.” You step back, away from his touch.

Loki swallows hard and nods, “Of course,” he says, bowing slightly. “You’re a busy woman, keeping the peace from light-years away… I just. Could you answer one more question for me?”

“I could certainly try,” you answer.

Loki smiles a little, “If you weren’t the one to cause the scandal, why were you sent away?”

You sigh, “Grandfather thought that with my Brother’s upcoming nuptials, it would be best if I were not at court.”

“I see,” he said, the smile fading from his lips, “I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be hard being so far from home.” 

You shake your head, “I’ve decided to view it as a lesson. A price to pay for my foolishness. And it isn’t forever. In the grand scheme of scandals, mine certainly isn’t the most memorable.”

Loki bows again, “Whatever the reason,” he said softly. “ I’m glad you’ve come to Asgard. It’s been a long time since I’ve met so singular a lady.” he leaves quietly after that. Exiting your room on silent feet. He wasn’t sure what had made him say that, but he liked the way your cheeks had colored. It pleased him immensely.


End file.
